


Diplomatic Freedom

by EmpressKat



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressKat/pseuds/EmpressKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to end the constant conflict between the Jones Kingdom and the Free People, King Jones arranges to wed his least favourite son to some Free lad.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You may as well get used to it. The deal has been made, and no amount of foul language is going to change it.” 

King Jones gazed impassively at his youngest son, who was currently ripping apart the meeting room that they were in and cursing wildly. Papers were strewn across the floor from the writing desk the boy had flipped over in anger. Twenty two years old and still throwing tantrums when he didn’t get his way. What an embarrassment, not just for the royal family, but for the entire realm.

The king sighed.

“You’re a prince, Michael; you always knew you might be required to make a political marriage for the good of the kingdom.”

“Yeah, sure, to some fucking princess or highborn lady or some shit! Not to some goddamn barbarian from the plains!” Prince Michael stilled his rampage and stood glaring up at his father, his eyes blazing with anger and betrayal, “He isn’t even a Prince! They don’t even have royalty! You’re marrying me off to some common savage, just to keep them from stealing any more of our fucking cows! I won’t do it, Father!”

“You do not have a choice. You will marry this boy. He is the eldest son of the current leader of the Free tribes. It is an honourable match, and it will bring peace to the border. The Free people grow stronger every year; we cannot afford to remain enemies. Ten nights from now, you will do your duty as a prince. You will marry this boy and cement this alliance. I suggest you go pack.”

Knowing that for a dismissal, Michael stormed from the room. Moments later, the king heard a smash that suggested his son had found something else to unleash his rage on to. Hopefully it had been nothing too valuable.

The king supposed that it was understandable for the young man to be somewhat displeased. He was being sent away from the court to live out the rest of his days in a small border castle, wed to some Free boy, and Michael had been correct in that the plains people were hardly what one might call civilized. Then again, at times neither was Michael. Still, it was not as if anyone expected the marriage to turn into a love match. With Michael’s temper, they would be lucky to achieve mutual respect. Obviously there would be no children, and thus no worries about inheritance. On the surface, the marriage was nothing more than a diplomatic attempt to end the annual spring feuds between the Jones’ kingdom and the Free people who lived on the neighbouring plains. This spring had been particularly violent, with great loss on both sides, and something needed to happen to end the conflict.

And beneath the surface? King Jones knew that his army was much stronger than the plains’, and he had always liked the idea of expanding the kingdom. If it came with the added effect of ridding the king of his least favourite son, that was just a convenient benefit.

King Jones winced and rubbed at his temples as yelling arose from elsewhere in the castle. Even if Michael did live, at least he would soon be well out of earshot.

*~*~*

“Fuck!”

Michael knew he was acting like a child. He knew that, as a Prince, he should conduct himself with dignity. He should remain calm and composed as he gladly sacrificed himself for the good of the kingdom. It was his royal responsibility.

He knew all that, and he did not give a single fuck.

It wasn’t fair. He almost wished he had been born a peasant. Peasants never had to marry for diplomatic reasons. They were allowed to marry for love, weren’t they? Not that Michael had ever been in love, not really. Falling in love had just never been one of his priorities. Still, he’d hoped to at least be permitted to marry a friend, because friendship could turn into love, couldn’t it? If Michael were to be honest, he’d recently intended to marry his best friend, the Lady Lindsay Tuggey. That marriage would have reinforced the loyalty of the wealthy Lord Tuggey, which ought to have made it a good enough match.

But his father had refused to allow the marriage when Michael had suggested it. Michael knew why, now, and he could do nothing about his circumstances except rant to Lindsay. She was the only one at court who would listen to him, anyway. He swore again.

“Shut up and stop whining,” Lindsay told him, when she judged that he’d done enough yelling, “at least you’ll be away from this stupid court and all its stupid court drama. You’ll have your own castle, away from your family. It’ll be fine, Michael.”

“Like hell it fucking will! Don’t get me wrong, it will be nice to get away from good old mom and dad. Not to mention the Crown Prince and his fucking brood of royal brats. But I don’t want to marry some savage! Savage man, I might add.”

“Oh, Michael. We both know his gender isn’t really one of your objections,” Lindsay giggled and Michael wanted to object, but she was right, of course she was right. “Just calm down, idiot,” her voice was firm but fond, as she coaxed Michael into sitting down on the bench beside her.

Michael was calming down. Lindsay had always known how to do that, ever since they were kids. Most people stayed away from him when he was angry. They were afraid of him, but at the same time, they treated him like a joke. People spoke in hushed whispers about Rage Prince Michael, but no one got too close. Michael had once seen a giant brown bear in a cage at some court function. People made a big deal about being afraid of it, but as long as they were far enough from the bars of the cage, they knew they were safe. The bear was loud, but powerless. It was just entertainment.

Lindsay had never treated Michael like a bear in a cage. She had always just laughed at him, with him, until he was calm enough to laugh along. She made him feel like a person, instead of an exhibit. He had no idea what he would do without her.

“I’m gonna miss you, Linds,” he sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too, you overgrown child.”

*~*~*

“Gavin, you don’t have to go through with this.”

Gavin grinned down at his best friend from his perch eight feet up a tree.

“I know, Dan. But I told my father I would do it. It’s a good thing for us all. We need a way to ally ourselves to those castle-dwelling prats.”

“That’s true,” and a surprisingly mature viewpoint, coming from Gavin, Dan mused, “As long as you know that you have a choice.” Dan suspected that Gavin had been pressured into agreeing. Why else would he leave the plains he loved to live in a stuffy stone building with some pretentious little prince?

“Of course I have a choice,” Gavin swung down from his tree to face Dan, his face growing serious, “Marry this guy and bring peace to my people, or keep fucking around out here, living off your hunting skills, and running my father’s legacy into the ground. I’m not a leader, Dan. I’m not a warrior like you. I’ll never be. I can’t hunt, I can’t farm. Maybe this is my chance to finally do something useful.”

Dan wanted to argue with that, but he knew Gavin was right. Although he was a great guy and he got along with everyone, Gavin’s skillset was not ideal for life on the plains. He couldn’t stay silent long enough to hunt anything, plus he gagged at the sight of blood. He got too attached to work with the animals they raised for food. And the one time he’d tried farming, he’d flooded three fields while attempting ‘experimental watering techniques’. 

People on the plains were largely nomadic, except those who worked the farms. Although they had personal freedom in a way no other society did, it was a hard life. A bad year for crops or a sickness in the local deer population would often result in starvation and death. It could and did drive some people to poach from farmers just over the border in Jones’ Kingdom. This new alliance would put a stop to that, Dan knew. Both the hungry years and the poaching. It would open new markets for the plains people and give their society a stability that they sorely needed. This was a good thing for the Free people. But Dan had been protecting Gavin his whole life. He’d put a lot of work into trying to keep the little bugger out of danger, and he didn’t like the idea of sending Gavin into such an unknown situation all by himself. 

Dan sighed. He knew himself well enough to tell where he’d end up; following Gavin into some stupid scheme was all he’d ever really known.

“Alright, B. Marry your Prince. I won’t enjoy living in one of their ridiculous castles, though.”

“What?” Gavin gazed at Dan, flummoxed. “Why would you be-“

“Well, I can’t send you off on your own, now, can I? Think of me as your royal guard.” Dan grinned and sketched a mocking bow.

“But Daniel-“

“Nope. Someone has to keep those fancy folk from trying anything tricky.”

“Right. Thanks B.”


	2. Chapter 2

Michael hated travelling. He especially hated riding in a fucking carriage like some prissy highborn fop. Worse, Lord Tuggey had forbid Lindsay from travelling to see his marriage. It was five days ride away from the capitol, and the Lord claimed the border was still too dangerous, so Michael was stuck with only his mother and her ladies-in-waiting, plus a handful of guards and servants. The carriage was large, but it didn’t seem like it from where Michael sat. There were five ladies including his mother, and each of them seemed to have bathed in a different scent. It was giving Michael a headache.

He gazed sullenly out the window, trying to ignore the wedding plans unfolding around him. Theoretically, the reason he’d been crammed into this carriage instead of riding horseback was to provide his input about the wedding ceremony. He didn’t have any input, and he knew his confinement to the carriage had more to do with preventing him from trying to escape. 

As if he had anywhere to escape to, he thought, staring at the passing fields. He hadn’t known there were this many fields in the entire world.

“Michael, dear, do you suppose your new husband will want to include aspects of a traditional plains wedding? I’ve heard they do their marriages at night by bonfire,” his mother paused, as if thinking, “You could be married in front of a fireplace, do you think he would like that?”

“I don’t know what he would like, Mother, I’ve never met him.”

The Queen made an unhappy noise.

“Well, we certainly can’t have it at night,” one of the ladies interjected, “it should be mid-day, so we can start back to the capitol in the afternoon.”

“Right you are, dear,” the Queen turned back to Michael, “now what do you think your new husband intends to wear to the ceremony? I do hope he has something nice. Perhaps we should provide a suitable outfit? It would be dreadful if he were to show up in animal skins, or something savage like that,” she said, glaring at Michael as if she suspected him of conspiring to dress the entire wedding party in deer hides.

Trying desperately to ignore the titters of the women and keep his temper in check, Michael tried to return his focus to the countryside they were riding through. It looked the same as it had the last four days of travel. He had no actual interest in trees and fields.

No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his thoughts kept straying to his upcoming marriage. To be honest, he couldn’t stop wondering about the man he was about to wed. He’d never met any of the Free people and he didn’t know what to expect. He kept imagining a gigantic hairy barbarian warrior, strong and silent and covered in battle scars. He felt a little inadequate. Well, maybe a lot inadequate. He didn’t know what his husband-to-be was expecting, but it probably wasn’t a short, shouty asshole like Michael.

He’d have to live with the disappointment, though. They didn’t really have much of a choice. Lindsay, being much more politically minded than Michael, had explained to him that this was not really expected to be a marriage, but more of a double hostage arrangement. Each young man represented a promise that his homeland would keep the peace. But if either nation were to decide that peace was no longer ideal… Well, Michael was pretty sure that’s why he’d been assigned not one, but two tough looking personal bodyguards.

He was shaken out of his reverie when the carriage came to a sudden halt. When he tuned in to his mother’s chatter, he gathered that they were passing some sort of travelling merchant and his mother was considering buying some flowers from him for the ceremony.

_What the fuck kind of merchant sells flowers,_ Michael wondered, leaning forward to peer out the opposite window. There was indeed a merchant’s cart out there, a large one with two strong horses to pull it. But unlike most common merchant wagons, the roof seemed to have been fitted with a small travelling garden. Michael had never seen anything like it. He climbed out of the carriage for a closer look.

The merchant himself appeared to be around Michael’s age, surprisingly young to have his own wagon business. He grinned when he saw Michael, and turned away from the guard he’d been speaking with.

“You must be the Prince!” he gave an elaborate, almost comical, bow and flourish, “Ray Narvaez Jr, my lord. Ray’s Roses is forever at your service.” He gestured broadly at the wagon.  
Michael smiled and ignored the way his mother was hissing at him to get back into the carriage. Ray was grinning at him with unaffected amusement. He seemed only a moment away from openly laughing at his own antics. Michael liked him already. 

“Well, Ray, it would seem that I am to be married at mid-day tomorrow. The ceremony will be at a border castle not far from here. Do you know the place?”

“Of course, my prince,” Ray responded, “it’s, uh, lovely. I understand the gardens were magnificent the last time it was occupied. I guess they probably still are,” he looked a bit wistful, and Michael smiled.

“Well, you’ve my permission to visit them whenever you’d like, then,” Michael heard his mother gasp, and he grinned, “and I’m sure my parents will pay most generously for a few of your lovely flowers for my wedding ceremony”. Michael was confident that his father would not be pleased to learn that he was going to be spending money on flowers for Michael’s wedding. “We’ll take whatever’s prettiest and most expensive, Ray, but make sure some of them are flowers from the plains.”

“Consider it done.”

Michael smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then? I’d be happy if you would consider yourself a wedding guest,” he accepted Ray’s bow and words of thanks with a regal hand wave and climbed back into the carriage, feeling pleased with himself. Not only had he caused his father an unnecessary expense, but he thought he might also be part way to making a friend. Having a travelling merchant for a friend would be valuable, news was hard to come by this far out. If he could convince Ray to stop by the castle every time he crossed the border, he’d have a steady flow of information.

Not to mention, his mother would think the whole thing was an absolute scandal.

This all put Michael in high spirits for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until they had stopped for the night, and he was curled up in a tiny bed in a tiny border Inn that Michael’s foul mood began to resurface. 

Flowers and friends be damned. Tomorrow he was marrying some sort of wild man. Michael had been raised luxuriously, he knew. His husband had not. The man would be strange and uncivilized, and Michael was a little afraid. He spent a long time staring into the darkness that night, and when sleep finally found him, he dreamt he’d married a giant who couldn’t even speak English who then chased him around a flower maze wearing nothing but animal skins.

*~*~*

“But look, Geoff, I want to sleep outside. And since I’m marrying your prince tomorrow, I feel like I should be allowed. I mean, I’m ordering you?” Gavin looked both stubborn and bewildered, “I am ordering you to not let me sleep inside of your little house!”

The man he was addressing, a border farmer named Geoff Ramsey, only laughed at him.

“You’re an idiot,” Geoff said, and then, “how about I’ll let you sleep in the barn as long as you never tell anyone that I made you sleep in the barn?”

Gavin considered this, and then nodded his agreement. He and Dan had been travelling for several days and Gavin was too tired to push the argument any further. A barn was close enough. He was pretty sure he could sneak out of the barn to sleep under the stars anyway, if he really wanted to. He just didn’t want to be confined in a little building that night.  
He had seen, as they rode on to Geoff’s farm, the not so distant castle that he’d be stuck in starting the very next day. It was larger than he had imagined. Gavin was used to tents and wagons, and to a society that could pick itself up and move on a moment’s notice. The vast stone building, all walls and towers, seemed both extravagant and wasteful. It was strong, but so restricting.

Gavin wasn’t sure if he was more excited or horrified by what tomorrow would bring, and all the conflicting feelings had him unable to sit still.

Not that Gavin was ever very likely to sit still.

His near constant fidgeting must have begun to irritate his hosts, because the next thing Gavin knew, the farmer’s wife had pressed a rather large mug of beer into his hands. He blinked at her, and she gave him a playful smile.

“I got falling-down drunk the night before my wedding,” she confided. “Drink up, Princeling!” 

Gavin wasn’t about to argue with that, and he took a large swallow from the mug. The beer was very strong, but it tasted alright, a sweet, oat-y taste. When he complimented it, he learned that Geoff had made it himself.

“I’ll send a few barrels up to the castle with you, if you want,” Geoff said, “as a wedding gift, I guess, for you and the Rage Prince.” Gavin’s attention was firmly on his beverage at that point, and although he murmured his thanks, it was Dan who sat up sharply at the nickname.

“The what prince?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, boy,” Geoff groaned, “You uh… you don’t know anything about Prince Michael, do you?” Both plainsmen shook their heads, and Geoff sighed. “You explain, Griffon, I’ve never even seen the kid,” Geoff gestured to his wife before leaning back in his chair and taking a long swallow from his beer.

“Okay. I’ve been out here on the border for about ten years, so my info might be outdated. It’s mostly rumour anyway, and the kid might have matured as he grew up. He’s about your age now, but when he was a kid,” Griffon paused. Dan had shifted closer to Gavin and was leaning forward, tense, as if he was trying to defend Gavin against whatever Griffon was about to reveal.

“The Prince is famous for having fits of extreme rage,” Griffon said at last. “They say you can hear him yelling from a mile away from the castle. They say he becomes incredibly angry for no reason, he just screams and destroys things, like some sort of monster,” Griffon paused. Gavin was paying attention now. “That’s all rumour though,” she continued quickly at the fear in his face, “Idle drunken chatter. Don’t worry princeling. Drink your beer.”

Gavin did drink. He drank quite a bit, but he didn’t stop worrying. He tried, staying up late, drinking and talking with Geoff and Griffon. But when he was curled up in the Ramsey’s barn loft for the night, his thoughts kept returning to the man he was expected to wed the next day.

His previous mental picture had been of a foppish man in fancy clothing, all dainty and boring. That man had been smashed to pieces by Griffon’s words, and now Gavin was imagining an angry giant, more bear than man. Gavin wasn’t easily intimidated, and he knew that if the Prince harmed him in any way, Dan would go mental with protective rage.  
All the same, he had been hoping to be friends with his husband. Now he wasn’t sure at all.

Gavin sighed and turned over in the pile of hay he had chosen to sleep in. He knew that even now, on the eve of his wedding, if he turned around and rode home very few of his people would blame him. It was the truest law of the plains that no person could be forced to make a choice that they did not choose freely. Each child of the plains was master of their own destiny. That’s why they were called the Free People. 

Gavin had been making decisions for himself his whole life and none of them had ever led him anywhere worthwhile. Maybe that was why he’d chosen to voluntarily limit his freedom. But if all he was doing was chaining himself to some sort of monster…

Gavin chased his thoughts around in the darkness for a long time. When he finally fell into an exhausted sleep, he still felt no peace.


	3. Chapter 3

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny, and far earlier than Michael would have liked. He was still half asleep when he was shoved unceremoniously into the carriage. Before he knew it, he was back to staring out the window, watching the morning sun turning the fields to gold as they trundled by toward the castle.

The ride was only a few hours, and Michael’s mother spent the entire time explaining precisely what he would be expected to do in the ceremony. Michael wondered who was going to explain all this to his husband to be. With this thought came the sudden realization that although they would be married by nightfall, he still didn’t even know the plainsman’s name. Just one more fucked up aspect of this fucked up situation.

In what seemed like no time at all, they were riding through the gates. Michael looked up at the castle he would be living in for presumably the rest of his life.

“It looks like shit,” he remarked.

One of the younger ladies giggled. His mother frowned. “Oh, Michael, dear, I do wish you’d conduct yourself according to your station. It looks…” she peered out the window and wrinkled her delicate nose, unable to find anything positive to say.

They had stopped in the outer courtyard, and it was a mess. The outer courtyard at the palace castle, where Michael had lived his whole life, was done up in elaborate tiles and statuary and bushes trimmed to look like animals. There were no statues here. The ground was dirt, probably, but so overgrown with weeds that it was impossible to tell for sure. The only decorations, so to speak, were a broken down wagon rotting against one wall, and several piles of something that did not bear contemplation.

The castle itself was small, but in decent shape considering it had been empty for all Michael’s life. A few stones needed repair, and most of the windows were empty, open to the wind and weather. The inside was probably a wreck, although Michael knew that there’d been a few servants here for several days trying to make the place habitable.  Key word, trying. He doubted they’d gotten very far.

Michael raised an eyebrow at his mother and she had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.

“Oh, darling, it won’t be so bad. One of your guards was selected specifically for his skill at carpentry and masonwork, I’m sure he’ll fix everything up!” She patted his arm, “I would like to think that you will be happy here. You are my son, you know. It’s a shame things never… worked out for you at court,” she paused delicately, too polite to suggest that Michael was not fit for refined company, although he knew that she was thinking it, “I’m sure you’ll be missed.”

Michael knew that the only person from home who was likely to miss him was Lindsay. He missed her already. He forced himself to smile anyway. This was the closest thing to parental affection he had received in years, and he supposed that it was nice of his mother to make the attempt.

He was saved from having to reply, as it was in that moment that one of his guardsmen, he thought it was Ryan but he still couldn’t really tell them apart, appeared at the carriage window. Possibly-Ryan announced that everything was ready and it was time to go inside. Michael took a deep breath. He certainly didn’t feel ready, but nonetheless he let himself be helped out of the carriage and into the castle.

He could tell that someone had attempted to clean the hall he was being led down. Much of the floor needed replacing, but it wasn’t as bad as it might have been. The room they stopped in was clean, too, but entirely empty, save for a steaming washbasin, a chair, and a little table. He allowed himself to be washed, dressed and fussed over by a pretty blonde servant girl, and before he knew it he was sitting alone, waiting for his signal to enter whatever passed for a great hall here at Shit Castle.

He swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the door. He could hear a harp being played in the hall, and the faint murmur of voices. It seemed like he was sitting there for hours, trying to remain calm and waiting for his whole life to change forever. In truth, it was probably only a few minutes before the door slid open and the pretty young servant slipped inside.

“It’s time, my lord,” the girl said. Barbara, Michael was pretty sure her name was Barbara.

“Um, thanks.” He stood, and then paused just inside the door. There was one more thing he wanted to do before he was wed. He turned to the girl, “Do you know his name? My, er, husband’s?”

Barbara looked puzzled that he would have to ask, but she quickly schooled her features back into a deferential smile. “He’s called Gavin, my lord.”

“Gavin,” Michael repeated. He nodded and walked through into the hall.

*~*~*

Gavin was bouncing on his heels when Kathleen arrived to fetch him from the room he’d been told to wait in. They had provided him a chair, but he couldn’t sit still, not now.

“Is it time?” he asked brightly. “I’ve been waiting forever! There’s nothing to do in this stuffy little room.”

“Yes, my lord, it is time,” Kathleen told him.

“You don’t need to call me that, like I’m better than you,” Gavin frowned. He’d been introduced to Kathleen right after he’d arrived. She was older than he was, and she seemed tough and very competent. He liked her. She was meant to be some sort of servant, he thought, but that was dumb. He didn’t need someone to help him wash and dress. “We’re both just people,” he told her, “I’m the same as you.”

Kathleen just smiled indulgently and gestured him toward the door. “Come along, my lord,” was all she said.

Gavin frowned deeper, but put off the debate for later. For now, he just went through the door.

The hall seemed huge, to Gavin. Later, Michael would tell him that it was tiny for a Great Hall, but it was probably the biggest room Gavin had ever been in. It was nearly empty, except for a dozen or so people, most of whom Gavin didn’t know, all facing a massive hearth with a large fire blazing in it. Gavin had stepped through a door about twenty feet from the fire. Another door had opened, an equal distance from the fire on the other side of the room. A man had come through it as well, and as instructed they began to walk with slow, measured steps to meet in the middle.

Gavin’s first impression of the Prince was that he was smaller than expected. Short and curly-haired, and he seemed weirdly focussed on staring at the floor. They were less than fifteen feet apart now, and Michael had yet to even glance at Gavin. Gavin knew this because he had not yet looked away. He wondered whether the Prince was nervous, or just really disinterested in everything that was going on. At least he didn’t seem like a monster, not to Gavin anyway.

They had reached the centre of the room now, meeting directly in front of the fire, and turned to face it as instructed, with their backs to the rest of the room. Gavin soaked up the warmth of the flames. They were comforting against the chill in the drafty stone building. He wondered, as he squinted at the light, whether it was really at all practical to have such a large fire inside a building. He wasn’t even sure where the smoke was going.  There must be some sort of tube carrying it away from the room. He was so caught up in pondering the logistics of keeping a bonfire inside that he completely missed the beginning of the ceremony.

There was an old man behind them, facing toward the wedding guests and droning on about something. It sounded boring, but Gavin wasn’t paying much attention, just listening for his cue, as instructed.

“Let them be joined together, here in the sight of gods and men,” there it was. Gavin reached his right hand out to the side, found Michael’s left, and entwined their fingers. He kept his gaze fixed on the flames in front of them. Michael’s hand was warm and his grip was strong. Despite the tales he’d been told about the Prince, Gavin felt reassured by the touch. He felt less alone.

The old man, Gavin guessed  he was some sort of spiritual leader, had begun to wrap a thick ribbon around their hands, and then their arms, leaving them bound tightly together up to their elbows. A fine gold chain followed the ribbon.

Gavin shivered. He was being literally chained to this marriage and he didn’t like it. Uncomfortable, he stared at the fire and tried not to fidget.

Just as the final bit of chain was being secured, Gavin felt Michael squeeze his hand tight for a moment. Gavin wasn’t sure if Michael was trying to make Gavin feel better, or seeking to be comforted himself, but he gave Michael an answering squeeze anyway. He felt a little bit better for it.

“As you are bound together, so too are two great nations bound in peace,” the old man was saying, “and in your union, we are all united.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. This was the most boring wedding he’d ever been to. A wedding ought to have far more alcohol, for a start, he thought. Somewhere in this castle was the beer Geoff and Griffon had sent him off with. He desperately wished that he had some right then.

The old man was going on about some gods that Gavin had never heard of. On the plains, two people being married would leap hand in hand over a bonfire, and then mount horses and ride off into the sunset. When they returned the next day, they would be a married couple. None of this business with chains and prayers. Why should the gods care who was wed to whom?

“And thus you are wed. May you find freedom and peace in one another,” the man finished.

They were supposed to kiss now, Gavin knew. To show that they recognized that they were married, or something like that. Did Gavin recognize that? He didn’t feel married.  He supposed he was, though, even if it hadn’t been what he thought of as a real wedding. Michael must have agreed, because he was turning to face Gavin, blinking in the aftermath of the bright fire.

Later, Gavin would not remember much about this first kiss. His arm, still bound to Michael’s, was twisted uncomfortably, and spots of colour danced in front of him as a result of staring at the fire so long. He was vaguely aware of Michael’s free hand on the side of his face, tilting his head slightly to the side. Their lips met, but it was nothing special. Not the sort of kiss that bards composed songs about. They were just two boys kissing in front of a fire, because they had been told that they had to.

What Gavin would remember was the moment afterward, when their eyes met for the first time. Michael gave him an awkward half smile, his dimples were adorable and his eyes were deep and reassuring, and Gavin decided that he was done with being scared.

They were untied and unchained, much to Gavin’s relief, but they continued to hold hands as they turned as one to face their audience.

Dan was the first one to approach; he was at Gavin’s side almost the second the ceremony was over. He gave Michael a long, measuring look, and then turned to Gavin.

“Alright, B?”

Gavin nodded, and Dan turned to stand behind him, apparently taking his guard duties very seriously. Two men Gavin didn’t know had taken similar stances behind Michael. It seemed silly to Gavin that they were being so heavily protected when there were only maybe twenty people in the whole castle. Who were they being defended against?

“What a beautiful wedding!” Gavin assumed that this was Michael’s mother, the Queen, approaching now. She was dressed in an incredibly impractical gown. It had so much in the way of frills and laces that it was a wonder the woman could even move. But she did manage to make her way to them, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, although Gavin didn’t think she looked like she’d actually been crying. She held her other hand out in front of his face.

“Er, hello,” he said, staring awkwardly at the hand he was being presented with. There was a large ring on one finger. Gavin wondered if she was trying to give the ring to him. He didn’t want it. He shot a bewildered glance at Michael, but that provided no help. Michael just looked like he was trying not to laugh.

There was a rustling behind him, and then one of Michael’s men was speaking quietly into his ear, “She wants you to kiss her ring.” Grateful for the help, Gavin did so. He felt confused and also mildly disgusted. He was glad when, after simpering a few more platitudes at them, the Queen drew back to her ladies.

The next guests they received were the representatives from Gavin’s father. They had been sent to the palace castle to confirm the treaty with King Jones, and had come to witness to wedding before riding back to the plains. There was no bowing or ring-kissing from them. These were Free warriors, they conducted themselves with the sure knowledge that they were on equal footing with every other person in the room, from the Queen to the serving girl.

“Well, Gavin,” said the older of the two, his father’s second-in-command and a man Gavin had known his whole life, “Are you well and truly married, lad?”

“Seems like,” Gavin grinned at him.

“And you,” he said, turning to Michael, “you declare yourself freely wed? You have consented without threat or coercion?”

“Yeah,” Michael sounded hesitant. Suddenly, Gavin wondered if anyone had actually asked for Michael’s consent. The thought was foreign to him, but he wouldn’t put much past these people. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his grip on Michael’s hand.

The man turned back to Gavin. “No idea why you agreed to this, Gav, but it’s done now. Best of luck to you. Both of you.” He stepped back and let the other plainsman approach.

This man, Gavin didn’t know well. It didn’t seem to matter, as the man ignored Gavin and Michael entirely and addressed Dan.

“We’ll be off as soon as we can, now,” he said, looking disdainfully around the room, “you sure about staying here? The kid doesn’t need you,” Gavin tensed, but the man went on ignoring him. “He’s got these two tough, capable castle-bred warriors to protect him,” he sneered. “You belong on the plains, Dan.”

“I do.” Dan said quietly, “I belong there. But I’m staying here, with Gavin.”

The plainsman shrugged, and the two left. Gavin felt Dan’s hand rest on his shoulder for a brief moment. He realized he’d been clutching Michael’s hand painfully hard, and relaxed his grip. At first, when he’d been told they were to remain holding hands after the ceremony, he’d been skeptical, but now he was glad. It was nice to have that invisible source of support, even though he’d still never really spoken to Michael.

There was only one more person waiting to approach them now. He was a fellow dressed in practical travelling clothes, standing very casually apart from everyone else in the room. He looked friendly, but incredibly uncomfortable. Gavin couldn’t help but approve of him instantly.

The man stopped several feet away from them, directed himself entirely at Michael, and preformed an elaborate bowing gesture, sweeping his arms about and ending up on one knee, with his head bowed. He held position for a moment before jumping to his feet and offering Gavin a casual handshake.

“Hi, I’m Ray.”

“Gavin,” Gavin introduced himself.

“Yeah, I know,” Ray laughed, “Gavin of Free, you’re the talk of the countryside. You’re either a vicious savage being locked up with the Rage Prince to protect us all from you both, or else you’re an innocent plains boy sacrificing your freedom for the good of humanity. You can guess which side of the border tells which tale.” Ray grinned and Gavin laughed, “You’re a monster in both stories, by the way,” he added, nodding to Michael.

“Figures,” Michael grumbled. “I usually am. Nice job with the flowers, though, man.”

Gavin glanced around, surprised. There were indeed flowers all about the room. He recognized several that grew wild near his home, mixed in with others he’d never seen before. Gavin didn’t know much about decorating with flowers, but he supposed that it looked nice.

“Thanks,” Ray said. “It’s not much, but I did what I could.”

“Are you planning to stick around a few days? You want to see the gardens, right?”  Michael asked. Gavin hadn’t even known there were gardens here.

“That would be great, yeah. I’ve been thinking about what you might want to plant in that empty courtyard, too, and-“

“I’m sorry to interrupt what I am sure is a very enlightened conversation,” it was the Queen. Gavin noted that she did not look sorry at all, “but I’m afraid it’s time to put the newlyweds to bed. We must be on the road very soon, after all.”

“Really.” Michael looked unimpressed. “You’re going to make us go through with that shit. Really?”

“But of course! We must see you to your bedchamber for the night. It’s traditional, Michael.”

Michael sighed heavily. “Fine,” he said shortly. “Let’s go,” he started towards the door, pulling Gavin along with him.

“Bye Ray,” Gavin called over his shoulder. He let himself be pulled along, unsure of where they were going and why they were going there. “Excuse me,” he tried, “but why are we going to bed now? It’s early afternoon.” Gavin hoped that this was not the regular bedtime for castle people. But no one told him anything, so he went along with it, hoping he’d get an answer soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Gavin had to wait for his answer until he and Michael were alone. They had been deposited in a bedroom that seemed nearly as big as Geoff Ramsey’s entire house. It was, Gavin had been informed, the only room that had been restored to a truly habitable condition. This seemed to mean rugs on the floors and tapestries on the walls and not a speck of dirt of dust to be seen. Even the Queen had seemed to approve of it.

She had just left, with her ladies, back on their way to wherever they’d come from. The plainsmen were gone, too. It was only their little household who remained.

Dan was still there, on guard right outside the bedroom door. Michael’s men, apparently named Jack and Ryan, were out there too.

Gavin threw himself onto the large bed in the centre of the room. It was a nice enough room, brightly lit by two large windows with real glass windowpanes. The room was fine, but Gavin still wasn’t sure why they’d been locked inside it in the middle of the afternoon.

He looked at Michael. The Prince was sitting at the window, watching his mother ride away. He had thus far refused to answer any of Gavin’s many questions. Gavin bounced a bit on the bed, making frustrated noises.

“Let’s go ride horses,” he tried.

“We can’t. We have to stay in this room until morning,” Michael replied, without even looking away from the window.

“But _why_ , Michael?” Gavin whined, drawing the words out to be as long as possible. When Michael didn’t respond at all, Gavin gave up on that tactic. He rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a thump and a quiet curse, and crept across the room to the fireplace.

What was with these people and keeping fire inside? It was dumb, Gavin thought, picking up a stick of wood from the nearby pile and prodding at the glowing embers. He liked fire, liked watching things turns to ash. And he was good at fire. Although he’d gleefully watch it consume everything in its path, he had learned to be careful with it. He respected fire. He didn’t think it belonged in bedrooms, especially not ones with fancy cloth covering the walls and the floor.

So he was being cautious as he slowly built up a strong flame from the coals. He smiled as the flames grew, proud of this thing he had made. He prodded a burning log, and the fire crackled loudly in response. Michael jumped at the sound and turned away from the window.

Victory, Gavin thought.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Michael said. His tone was not that of a question, but Gavin decided to answer it anyway.

“I intend, Michael, to set this entire room on fire, so that I will then be allowed to go outside of it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael sighed and turned around to fully face Gavin. “We can’t leave this room because of wedding tradition. In theory, we should be using this time to consummate our marriage.”

“Consummate?” Gavin asked innocently, trying to hide a grin, “Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s, um,” Michael fumbled a bit until he caught sight of the laughter on Gavin’s face. “You know exactly what it means, don’t you. Don’t make me hurt you.”

Gavin just giggled.

“So, even though we are absolutely not consummating anything, my mother felt we should still be locked in here for the night, because she’s a bitch who enjoys making me suffer.” Michael concluded, shooting one last glare out the window.

“But your mother isn’t here now.”

“No servant is going to disobey the Queen’s orders, Gavin.”

“That’s dumb. And don’t call them servants. They live in our home, so they are part of our family.”

Michael stared.

“Gavin, this shitty castle is not a home, and we definitely do not have a family.”

“We are a family, though! Me, you, Dan, Ryan and Jack, Barbara and Kathleen. Maybe even Ray and my friends Geoff and Griffon!” Gavin had banked the fire and was now joining Michael at the window, “They live there, see?” he said, pointing at the little farm visible in the distance. “Close enough that we can invite them to visit our lovely little home!”

“No. Just, no. Shut up.” Michael pushed away from the window and moved over to the bed, laying down and placing a pillow over his face, as if it could block Gavin out.

Gavin just grinned. Michael wasn’t scary at all. He was kind of adorable. This might be fun after all.

*~*~*

It was worse than Michael had expected. He could have dealt with someone intimidating, as long as they were silent, but Gavin was too much. Gavin wasn’t scary at all. He was, however, the most irritating person Michael had ever met. He just wouldn’t stop talking.

First, he had spent several hours complaining about being stuck in their bedroom, and coming up with stupid plans to get out. Then, just before sunset, they’d been delivered a simple meal for dinner. Gavin had put on a running commentary about the food. Some of it had actually been pretty funny, although Michael would never admit that to him.

He had then spent at least an hour trying to convince Michael that they should adopt a few kittens and raise them like babies. Michael had eventually agreed that they could get one, maybe two cats. He had been sure to specify that they would raise them like cats, and that he had only agreed because they would keep the castle’s rat population down.

He had hoped that would be enough to make Gavin happy and quiet, but it had just encouraged him. Michael was beginning to suspect that Gavin thought they were friends.

It was getting late now. Michael was lying face down on the bed, covering his ears with a pillow and trying to pretend that Gavin didn’t exist. Gavin was curled up on a chair by the window. He’d been silent for a few minutes. Michael was hoping he’d fallen asleep.

“Michael?”

“Fuck,” Michael groaned into the mattress.

“Oh, good, you’re awake! Michael, I’ve been thinking,” he sounded very serious.

Michael sighed and, against his better judgement, removed the pillow from his head. “Have you? Really? Because that would surprise me.”

“I’ve been thinking, what if this castle becomes intelligent and devours us all in the night?”

“What if you become intelligent and shut the fuck up?”

“Hmm,” Gavin paused, as if contemplating the idea. “Do you think it’s likely, though?”

“For you to shut up? Not really.”

“No, you doughnut, for the castle to eat us. Or, collapse on us. Or, what if we run out of oxygen in here?”

Michael rolled over and stared at Gavin. He was sitting on the window sill now, the same one Michael had been at earlier. But where Michael had been relishing the sight of his mother finally getting the hell out of his life, Gavin was looking up instead, craning his neck up to peer at the stars.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or just being stupid,” Michael told him. “Maybe both,” he added after a moment’s pause.

“Probably both,” Gavin admitted, “But for real, I don’t trust this castle.”

Michael was not entirely sure he trusted it either, it was pretty much shit, but he knew better than to tell Gavin that. “It’s fine. This castle has stood here for a hundred years. Probably longer, I don’t fucking know. It’s safe, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise. Now stop being a fucking idiot and go to sleep.”

Gavin nodded, but he didn’t move. He glanced nervously at the bed, and then looked away quickly.  “Huh,” he said, darting another glance at the bed. Michael was still staring at him.

“Gavin?”

“Yes, Michael?”

“I thought I just told you to stop being an idiot.”

“Well, yes… But see, the thing is, I was thinking-“

“No,” Michael interrupted. “I don’t want to hear any more thoughts that your brain was attempting to have. It’s late. Get in bed and go the fuck to sleep.”

“That bed?” Gavin moved tentatively toward the bed, still looking suspicious.

Michael sighed. “You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”

“Right.”

Gavin climbed into the large bed, careful to leave as much space as he could between the two of them. He prodded experimentally at his pillow before pulling it down and wrapping his arms tight around it, as if it were a precious stuffed toy.

_Or a lover_ , Michael’s traitorous brain suggested. He ignored the thought, turning on his side to face away from Gavin. It was a pillow, just a pillow, and Gavin was just an idiot, and Michael was not going to have those sorts of thoughts about him. Absolutely not.

That resolution lasted all the way until morning. When he woke up cuddled into a warm body, with all four of Gavin’s long limbs wrapped tightly around him.

_Shit._


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Gavin woke the next day, the bedroom was empty. A quick peek out the window told him that it was nearly noon. Gavin was used to the sun waking him at dawn, but he didn’t mind being allowed to sleep late. He rose and stretched, yawning. Glancing around the room, he saw that his belongings had been piled on top of a large trunk near the door. There was an identical chest next to it, presumably for Michael’s things. He grabbed some clothes from his bag, not bothering to put the rest of it away just yet. There would be time for that later.

For now, he dressed quickly and set off to explore the castle. He followed the smell of freshly baked bread down a staircase, and found himself in the kitchen. The room was large, but so full of counters and cupboards that it seemed much smaller. There were indeed three loaves of fresh bread sitting next to an oven. Kathleen was chopping vegetables and tossing them into a large pot when Gavin crept into the room.

“Finally awake, my lord?” she chuckled.

“M’name’s Gavin. Can I have some bread?”

“Alright, Gavin,” she cut him a thick slice of bread and handed him an apple from a large barrel in the corner. “We put Dan to bed a few hours ago. He stayed up all night guarding your door, heaven knows why.”

“He’s a bit weird, that one,” Gavin agreed, happily munching away. “Do you know who I would talk to about finding a kitten?”

“A cat? I guess we should get one here, keeps the rats away. Well, you can go talk to Ryan, I suppose. He’s out in the stables, I think.”

“Top.”

Gavin wandered out, still enjoying his breakfast. It took him a while to realize he didn’t know where the stables were. Shrugging, he set off down a random hallway, sure that he’d find something worth finding.

The castle wasn’t that big, but he was thoroughly lost by the time he found Barbara sweeping out an empty room. It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree to give up on cleaning and show Gavin the way to the stables.

They were outside, which seemed obvious to Gavin once he’d thought about it.

“I can’t believe you were looking for the stable inside,” Barbara teased him.

“I wasn’t!” Gavin spluttered, “I was just looking, in the general sense.”

Barbara laughed. He was glad she was willing to laugh with him now. It hadn’t taken her long to drop the whole ‘my lord’ nonsense, and Gavin was grateful. It put him on edge. He might be married to a Prince and living in a castle, but he was not one of these fancy castle gentlemen, and he didn’t think he ever would be.

Ryan was indeed in the stables, brushing down a horse. Looking past him, Gavin recognized the mare he’d ridden to get there, and wandered over to feed her the rest of his apple.

“We need cats, Ryan,” he said, patting the horse gently and withdrawing, turning to Ryan seriously.

It took little convincing before Ryan was promising to look for a litter of kittens for the castle, and Gavin and Barbara were being politely shooed out of the barn. Gavin suspected that Ryan had agreed so easily mostly to get them to leave, but he didn’t mind.

Task accomplished, Gavin decided he could take the rest of the day off. He decided to spend the rest of the afternoon learning his way around the castle and hanging out with Barbara whenever she was free from chores. Dan woke up about mid-afternoon and the three of them discovered a spot that was perfect for swimming in the river that ran past the castle. They brought a healthy supply of Geoff Ramsey’s beer, too.

“I’m glad you’ve stopped being responsible, Dan,” Gavin said, stretching out on a rock and enjoying the slight buzz the beer had given him. “You’re more fun as a friend than a guard.”

Dan looked over to where Barbara was swimming laps across the water, and then turned back to Gavin. “I can be both. But none of these chaps seem all that dangerous.”

“I like them. Michael’s a tosser, but he’s alright. Barb is hilarious, and Jack and Ryan are a bit boring, but they seem alright. I feel like we can have something good here.”

“I hope so,” Dan said.

“Right, well, enough of this crap,” Gavin sat up, a mischievous look on his face that Dan had learned to be wary of. “What’s that, B?” he said, pointing to the water behind Dan. Dan knew nothing good would come of turning around to look, but he did so anyway. True to form, Gavin tackled him and they went tumbling into the water.

 It was well into the evening when the three of them stumbled back into the castle, tired, sunburnt and laughing. Kathleen provided them with some stew that had been simmering all day. The dining hall, like most of the castle, was still an empty room, so they sat down cross-legged on the floor to eat.

“I’ll have your new dining table finished by tomorrow,” Jack promised, settling on the floor with his own stew. “I’m better at building houses than furniture, unfortunately.”

“It’s four pieces of wood going up and down, and one big flat piece lying on top,” Gavin told him.

“Yeah? Maybe I should just let you build it, then.”

“Uh, no, you take your time,” Gavin backpedaled, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with sitting on the ground to eat.”

“I bet that’s not what the Prince said. You’re so down to earth that you might not mind not having a table and chairs, but I bet Prince Michael won’t stand for it,” Barbara grinned. “He’s not going to take it sitting down.”

Gavin groaned at the puns, but his thoughts were racing with the sudden realization that he hadn’t seen Michael all day. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about his husband, not really, there had just been so much to see and do that Gavin had never paused to wonder where Michael had got to.

“So, uh, is he even going to show up for dinner?” Gavin wondered aloud, trying to sound casual.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jack said, “he ate earlier with Ryan and Ray.”

“Oh,” Gavin wasn’t sure whether or not he was disappointed. For the most part, he had enjoyed talking to Michael the night before. Sure, he’d been cranky and a little insulting, but Gavin was still pretty sure that they were becoming friends. He suspected that insulting people was Michael’s default form of communication.

At any rate, Gavin was sure he’d see Michael at bedtime, so he put the thought aside and relaxed back into the casual dinner conversation. Before long, it had turned into after dinner bevs and friendly chatter. Dan and Jack were talking about the differences between fighting styles in the kingdom and on the plains, and Barbara and Gavin were contributing where they could, generally by making puns and dirty jokes.

“How long’s your sword?” Gavin slurred at Barbara.

“Longer than yours,” she shot back, and they dissolved into giggles.

Gavin didn’t think it was particularly late when he made his way up to bed, but Michael was already asleep. He didn’t wake up when Gavin prodded his shoulder, so Gavin shrugged and climbed into bed. They could talk in them morning.

“Goodnight Michael,” he whispered, and drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*

Michael sighed as he watched Ray’s wagon disappear into the distance. He knew Ray couldn’t stay at the castle forever; a travelling trader couldn’t make money staying in one place. Besides, Ray had to visit the capitol, both to collect his payment for the wedding flowers and to deliver a letter Michael had written to Lindsay, formally inviting her to celebrate midwinter with Michael and Gavin. Michael was fairly sure that she’d be able to manipulate her father into allowing her to visit. Lindsay was clever like that.

But in the meantime, Michael was still stuck out in the middle of nowhere with Gavin. Gavin was a problem, and now that Ray had left, Michael probably couldn’t hide like he’d been doing for the past week. He and Ray had been spending most of their time in the garden in the inner courtyard. It was a good hiding spot; the only entrance was through a little door in the kitchen. It was peaceful out there, and it was beautiful too, even Michael could admit it.

There was a partial roof, covering about a quarter of the garden. Ray claimed that having both shade and sun allowed for many different types of flowers to thrive. Michael didn’t know about that, but he did enjoy relaxing in the shade, listening to the little artificial fountain bubbling. It had taken them a full day to clean out the little waterfall, but now it flowed cleanly into a little pond. But as lovely and peaceful as the spot was, Michael had never really been big on plants, and he was getting a bit bored. And really, he probably shouldn’t just keep hiding from Gavin forever.

So even though he wasn’t looking forward to putting up with more of Gavin’s inane chatter and deliberate attempts to piss Michael off, he still sat himself down at the rough new dining table and purposefully stayed there until Gavin showed up for breakfast.

“Michael! It’s you!”

Michael winced guiltily at the excitement in Gavin’s voice. He knew he was rude to have been avoiding his husband for so long, but every time they spoke Gavin was so full of enthusiasm and easy affection and it made Michael uneasy. In his experience, people tended to avoid him unless they wanted something. The only people who were ever so affectionate with him were usually trying to use his position to further their own. Michael was aware that this had made his methods of interaction a little twisted, but growing up as the youngest Prince in a vicious court could mess with a boy’s head.

Ray had been easy for Michael to talk to. His wry sarcasm and mocking jokes reminded Michael of Lindsay. But Gavin was all bright smiles and ridiculous noises, and Michael had no idea how to react to that.

Also, Gavin was undeniably attractive, but Michael was still absolutely not thinking about that. He wasn’t thinking about the emotion in Gavin’s voice when he wished Michael goodnight, every night, as Michael stubbornly feigned sleep. He wasn’t thinking about waking up every morning in the comfortable warmth of Gavin’s arms, or how alone he felt as he slipped out of the room every morning before Gavin could wake up.

He was paying no attention at all to the way Gavin’s face lit up when instead of disappearing from the breakfast table, Michael said good morning and gestured for Gavin to sit across from him.

“Hey Michael?” Gavin said around a mouth full of bread and jam.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna do some swimmy bevs with me? Barb won’t, she has to work or some spaff, and Dan is doing guard stuff with Jack and Ryan today, and I don’t want to go swimming alone like some sort of mincing prat, so you should come along.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“What? Why weren’t you listening to me?”

“Oh, I was listening Gavin, but the things that you were saying were definitely not actual words.”

“They were all words, Michael,” Gavin said patiently. “Do you, Michael Jones, want to go and swim drunkenly with me?” He said it very slowly and clearly, as if talking to a young child.

Michael did not particularly want to go, but he agreed anyway, hoping that Gavin would be easier to deal with after Michael had had a few beers. Watching Gavin trip over himself like a puppy in his excitement as they collected a bit of food and a lot of beer and got ready to go, Michael found he didn’t even regret his decision much.

He had to admit, privately, that the location Gavin led him to was pretty decent. It was a quiet pond of water just off a river bend. Entirely sheltered by the branches of a huge willow tree, it was almost as cool and private as an indoor pool.

Placing his beer on a large and conveniently flat rock, Michael immediately stripped off his shirt and dove in. He was halfway across the water, swimming with smooth and practiced strokes, when he heard Gavin screech something incomprehensible. There was no time to react before the noise was followed by a splash and Michael was rocked by a huge wave of displaced water.

He was still blinking water out of his eyes as he turned to Gavin, who was just surfacing. Michael watched as Gavin started laughing so hard that he forgot to tread water, sunk under the surface, and popped back up, spluttering and laughing even harder. He waited politely until Gavin had his idiocy under control again before speaking in a carefully controlled voice.

“What the fuck was that?”

“That, Michael, was the Leap of Destiny!”

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you what I think of your leap of destiny.” With no more warning than that, Michael dove under the water and swam towards Gavin. He grabbed one of Gavin’s feet and yanked as hard as he could, pulling Gavin entirely under the water. He was well away by the time Gavin surfaced, coughing and laughing and glancing around wildly. Once he caught sight of Michael he immediately lunged for him, sending another wave of water into Michael’s face.

The next few hours were more fun than Michael had expected. They swam and splashed and drank and played. In the privacy of the pool, Michael found himself setting aside the detached and unfriendly façade he usually hid behind. Gavin clearly wasn’t afraid to act as carefree as a child, and in Gavin’s company Michael found that he wasn’t, either. Or maybe it was just the beer. It was excellent beer, and Michael had taken several breaks from swimming to just sit on the rock and drink.

“Hey Michael, set that bev down for a moment, yeah?”

Eyeing Gavin with suspicion, Michael set his beer down well away from the water’s edge. He was not at all surprised when Gavin crashed into him at full speed, sending them both flying back into the water in a blur of flailing limbs.

“You’re going to regret that,” he told Gavin once he’d caught his breath.

The underwater wrestling match that followed was the most one-sided fight Michael had ever been in. Gavin didn’t seem to mind that he was fighting a battle he had no chance of winning. He was all strange noises and breathless laughter when Michael finally pinned him against the side of the rock, firmly enough that he couldn’t squirm away.

“Gotcha,” Michael grinned. But he was immediately distracted from his victory gloat when he took a good look at Gavin. Dripping wet and grinning, with scraps of sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy to dance of his face, Gavin looked almost magical, and yet more real than anything Michael had ever seen. Transfixed, Michael lifted a hand to brush a droplet of water from Gavin’s face.

Gavin drew a sharp breath at the contact, and Michael suddenly became very aware of the position they'd ended up in. His right leg was wrapped around both of Gavin’s, keeping the boy trapped with his back against the rock. They were pressed together from chest to hip, and that proximity was about to become a rather embarrassing problem for Michael.

He started to draw away, but halted the motion when Gavin brought his free hand up to clutch at Michael’s shoulder. Gavin’s carefree grin was gone now, replaced by a more serious expression that Michael couldn’t quite place. Gavin leaned forward, as if gravity was pulling him towards Michael, until their faces were inches apart.

“Gavin,” it was only a murmur, but it seemed to shock Gavin out of whatever sort of trance he’d been in. He blinked, twice, flushed a vibrant red, and used Michael’s distraction to push back against the rock and break out of Michael’s loosened grip. By the time Michael collected his thoughts, Gavin was twenty feet away, and looking anywhere but at Michael.

Michael shook his head, trying to clear that last image out of his brain. When that didn’t work, he ducked under the water entirely and stayed submerged until his lungs burned for air and his mind stopped picturing Gavin’s face just before he’d pulled away.

Emerging, he pulled himself up onto the rock and took a long drink. He looked out across the pool at Gavin, sprawled out and floating on his back. It was a fluke, Michael told himself firmly. It was less than that. It was nothing at all. Gavin was nothing but an irritating idiot from the plains. Nothing else.

But the mood in the glade had changed. When Gavin eventually swam over for a drink, he was quiet, and he wouldn’t meet Michael’s eyes.

“It’s getting late,” Michael said, even though it wasn’t, “we should head back.”

Gavin agreed instantly, but the awkward silence continued all the way back to the castle, and the second they arrived, Gavin disappeared.

Michael shrugged and made his way out to his little garden. He spent the rest of the day alternating between trying to convince himself that Gavin was an asshole that he hated, and reliving the morning endlessly in his mind, trying to place the look on Gavin’s face.

By the time night fell, Michael was pretty sure that he was in a lot of trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

Things were tense between Michael and Gavin the week following what Gavin now thought of as ‘the swim incident’. Gavin had spent a few days avoiding Michael entirely. He was pretty sure it was ironic, or something, for the first few days of their marriage he’d been so frustrated that Michael was avoiding him, and now he was doing the same thing to Michael. But it was awkward for Gavin, he had tried to kiss Michael! Not on purpose, or anything, it had been almost instinctual. Gavin wasn’t sure what had come over him that day, but he didn’t want to be around Michael until he was sure he could trust himself not to do it again.

The weirdness gradually went away, though. They had a sort of unspoken understanding that they weren’t ever going to talk about it, and whenever they went swimming they were sure to bring Barbara or Dan with them. Ignoring problems was Gavin’s favourite way of making them go away, and so he worked extra hard to not pay any attention to whatever his thing with Michael was.

Gavin’s days quickly fell into a routine. He woke up late nearly every morning, a luxury he’d never had before and never wanted to give up. After breakfast, he’d help Barbara with whatever she was doing, or else bother Jack while he worked to repair the castle. The afternoons, he spent with Michael. When they weren’t swimming, they’d practice arms work with Dan, Jack, and Ryan.

Michael, it turned out, was nearly unstoppable with a sword. He’d had years of training with the best teachers money could buy, of course, but Gavin thought he also had an innate gift. He held the sword like it was an extension of his body, and he could channel his rage into intricate and powerful swordplay. Sometimes, when Gavin pushed a joke too far and truly angered Michael, he would disappear out to the practice area and spends hours destroying some poor practice dummy.

Gavin liked watching Michael with a sword, holding it like that’s what he was born to do. Gavin himself held a sword like he wasn’t sure why someone was trusting him with something so long and sharp. He was a little better with a bow and arrow, but mostly he didn’t care much for fighting.

After practice, the entire castle would eat together, and then spend the evening talking and playing games. Gavin had tried to teach them some card games from the plains, but Michael refused to put up with Gavin’s haphazard teaching style, so mostly they played games from the kingdom, and Gavin carefully divided his time between trying to win and trying to mess everyone else up.

Once a week, Geoff and Griffon would visit, or else Gavin would go visit them at their farm. Geoff and Gavin would sometimes try to invent new games. The goal of these games was usually to get very drunk, and although Gavin was great at them, he rarely remembered the rules the next day.

Overall, Gavin was content. He was surrounded by people he liked, and there was always someone to talk to and mess around with. It was strange, not being expected to do much of anything responsible. He had the whole day to do pretty much whatever he liked, and no one gave him dirty looks if he wasn’t contributing enough. When he had agreed to this whole marriage thing, it had seemed like an important job, but he wasn’t doing anything that felt like work.  Even when he was helping Barbara clean or assisting Ryan with the animals, it just felt like hanging out with friends.

Several months passed in a sort of peaceful blur, and suddenly it was autumn. Ray returned, riding south for the winter, bringing important letters and court gossip for Michael. Gavin was glad to see him until he realized that Ray and Michael planned to spend the entire afternoon talking about politics and things. Gavin found it all incredibly boring. He was going to have to find his own fun.

He had wandered, moping, into the outer courtyard when he saw it. The courtyard was a big empty place, still covered in weeds, and now fallen leaves as well. But in the centre, completely unattended, was a giant furnace contraption. He’d forgotten all about it.

Last week, a glassblowing man had arrived at the castle to measure the windows and provide real glass panes for them. They needed a lot of windows installed before winter, so the man had brought his portable furnace and set up shop in the courtyard.

 When Gavin had expressed interest, he’d explained how the furnace worked. There was a large door in the side, and he inserted sheets of some weird sand mix, melted them, and ended up with windows. He’d gone into greater detail, but what really interested Gavin was the hose-like contraption sticking out the back. Gavin wasn’t too sure how it worked, but it used oil and you compressed a bag of air, and it shot out concentrated streams of fire. The man had said it was for metal working, and that he would show Gavin some other time.

But the glassmaking man wasn’t there, he’d taken Jack and Dan and they’d gone to the nearest town for some supplies. And Gavin was really interested in the fireblower. He wondered if he should really be doing this alone. If Dan had been there, he would have joined Gavin in an instant. But no one was around. That meant no one to help, but it also meant no one to tell him no.

He wasn’t stupid. The first thing he did was to go and fetch a couple buckets of water. Safety was important after all. And then he got to work pouring the fuel into the chamber. He spilled some on the ground, but he figured it would be okay. Concentrating, he lit a little fire in the furnace, picked up the airbag thing and pressed the handles together hard, sending air shooting into the contraption. The air was supposed to blow past the fire and then past the oil and come out as a steady stream of flame. Controlled, directed fire. Gavin wasn’t entirely convinced it would even work.

It did work. The fire went shooting out the nozzle, just as the man had said. The nozzle that was pointed at the ground in front of Gavin’s feet. The ground he’d spilt the fuel on. He had just enough time to be surprised.

After that it was a blur. Everything was bright and hot, so hot. Gavin stumbled backwards, and he must have tripped over something because he felt himself flying, falling, hitting the ground. And then there was darkness.

*~*

The next thing Gavin was aware of, he was lying in a bed and Michael was sitting in a chair next to the bed, staring at him. Gavin wasn’t sure, but he thought Michael looked scared.

Taking his cue from Michael’s expression, Gavin took a worried mental inventory of himself. His head was pounding, and his entire front was experiencing the heat and sting that he associated with minor burns. Other than that, though, he felt alright. His limbs were all still accounted for. Why did Michael look so worried?

“Hi, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes snapped to Gavin’s face, and his expression turned dark and angry. He took a deep breath, and then exploded.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. What the hell were you thinking? Oh, right, you weren’t thinking. You never use your fucking brain!”

Gavin’s eyes widened as Michael’s ranting brought him closer and closer, until he was standing over Gavin and screaming into his face. Suddenly the nickname ‘Rage Prince’ made a lot of sense. Gavin tried to look suitably repentant and waited until Michael paused to suck in a ragged breath before launching into his explanation.

“I just wanted to see what would happen, Michael! It’s not like I was trying to set myself on fire. It was an experiment, that’s all,” he put on his most innocent expression and looked up at Michael, “I don’t really see what all the fuss is about.”

“The fuss, you gigantic fucking idiot, is about how you almost died!”

“I’m just a bit singed-“

“No, shut up. You almost died, in the stupidest way possible. You almost left me alone here in Castle fucking Hellshit. My best friend just sent me a letter saying she’s engaged to the fucking Duke of Douchebags, my family sold me off as a half-assed diplomatic pawn, you are literally the only person I have left in this entire shitty world and you just fucking set yourself on fire. Christ, Gavin.”

Michael paused, breathing heavily.

Gavin blinked up at him, and a small smile began to creep across his face. Michael glared harder, but Gavin’s smile just turned into an outright smirk.

“You were just worried about me. Aww, Michael, that’s sweet,” Michael made a choked noise and Gavin’s grin widened. “Don’t worry my little Michael, I won’t leave you all alone. You’re pretty much stuck with me.”

Michael glared, trying to hold on to his anger, but it was no use. Gavin’s bright expression was too much for him. “Just don’t do it again, you idiot,” he said at last, “We’re still trying to prevent a war, here. Your dumb ass is sort of necessary.”

“Alright. I promise to be more careful next time.”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘next time’?” Michael’s eyes narrowed. But Gavin just laughed, and soon Michael, exhausted by his rage and worry, gave up and laughed with him.


End file.
